


Midnight Ramblings

by mcmachine



Series: Meant To Be [4]
Category: Grey's Anatomy
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-18
Updated: 2018-04-18
Packaged: 2019-04-24 10:30:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14353638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mcmachine/pseuds/mcmachine
Summary: A short piece on Jackson's thoughts about April's c-section scar.





	Midnight Ramblings

**_ JACKSON _ **

It's late when I finally get home from work. The house is quiet and still.

Naturally, that can only mean one thing. My wife must have worked a real miracle and managed to get our baby girl down for the night on her own accord.

The adjustment hadn't been easy. After everything that April had gone through, we had to walk on eggshells for just a little bit. She hadn't wanted to hire help around the house or with her own condition. I'd been taking care of the both of them for the past few weeks until Arizona had cleared her for normal activity again.

She had been struggling, I could see that, even if she refused to admit it out loud. It made sense. After Samuel, having Harriet… even though it was a complete miracle, it was also a living reminder of the child that we had lost together, how it had nearly torn us apart as individuals and as a couple. I wondered what milestones he would have reached by now. If he would have had the same developmental pattern that she had displayed so far. I knew that she was having the same thoughts, even if it was difficult for the both of us to voice.

But she had managed to bond with the baby, despite all of the worries. April was an amazing mother. Kind and considerate, always thinking about the baby. I was sure that she had slowed down her own recovery process from straining herself to do everything that she could.

Making my way to the nursery quietly, I open the door slowly to make sure that it doesn't sleep. Harriet's soundly sleeping in her crib, laying on her back and swaddled up comfortably, and the white noise machine on in the background. I stand there and watch her for a moment, a smile widening my cheeks. In the rare moments that she's this peaceful, it's a wonderful sight.

There's the temptation to pick her up and hold her, kiss her goodnight. But I don't want to wake her up. Once she fell asleep, she was pretty good – but getting her down was hard.

Hesitating for a few moments longer, I pull the door shut again and take a few steps down the hallway toward our bedroom. April was stretched out on the bed, beneath the covers, and asleep. I move past her to quickly brush my teeth and change into a pair of pajama pants, exhausted. Transitioning back to work from paternity leave had been a challenge. A long shift and an equally long night with inconsistent wake-up calls from Harriet, regardless of whether it was me or April getting up to tend to the baby, didn't make for a calm or restful environment.

I'm grateful to see that I hadn't woken her up when I turn off the bathroom lights and step back into the bedroom. I can barely see her without the lights on, mostly just a shape in the bed.

Kneeling down on the bed gently to try and not disturb her, I stretch out slowly, letting out a sigh. My gaze turned to April, examining her for a moment. I can tell that she's tired. There are bags under her eyes. She hadn't been getting much more sleep than I had either. Staying at home with a baby wasn't easy, I knew that.

My eyes run over her frame for a moment, noticing where her shirt had ridden up from the adjusting that she had done. Low between her hips, the scar from her c-section was peeking out of her pajamas.

It's still pink. Nowhere near as bad as it had been at the beginning when she had needed wound therapy. It was unlikely that it would ever fade away completely, but the color around the room was improving, at least. I knew that she was insecure about it. She rarely let me see it, as her husband or as a plastic surgeon.

But I find it beautiful.

To me, it represented everything that she had been through. Everything that she had endured to ensure that our daughter would come into the world, to make sure that neither of us would go through the devastating tragedy that we had already been through once.

The thought of losing her was terrifying. I couldn't imagine a world without the love of my life. I didn't want to. She meant everything to me and I had built my life around her in one way or another. No matter the bumps in the road that we hit, I could get through them knowing that she would always be there on the other side, one way or another. I needed her in the same way that I needed oxygen. She was a requirement for me to keep going day after day. I couldn't live with the kind of fear that came from the thought of losing her again. I didn't know how to. I didn't want to know how to, either.

Even if it wasn't aesthetically pleasing by typical standards, the scar was one of the most powerful things about her. What it stood for was unlike anything that I could ever begin to imagine someone else going through.

A cesarean section was generally a hard recovery – in part, because of the combination of being gifted new life. But to go through one without anesthesia? To talk Warren into it?

I couldn't even begin to imagine the agony that she had been through, and I had heard the sounds of her screaming on the phone. I hadn't been able to get them out of my head, replaying them over and over in the minutes that it had taken for the ambulance to get from Meredith's house to the hospital, when she had been in surgery with Bailey and Robbins and I hadn't been able to know the outcome. There were still some nights when it came through in the form of nightmares.

It turned out that my greatest fear was losing her. I had never known until I heard her screaming like that, terrified and agonized. I had wanted to be there in the room during Harriet's birth but I knew now if I had been at Meredith's house, there was no way that I would have been strong enough to stand what had happened in her kitchen.

Even after how much pain we had both been through when it came to losing our son, I would have gone through the pain again, I would have selfishly caused her the pain again, as long as I got to keep her. We could make another baby. We had already proven that with Harriet. But there was no duplication April, she was one of a kind in every way possible.

April Kepner was, undoubtedly, the strongest woman that I knew.

She had been through Hell and back, danced with death, and yet she had come out on the other side more beautiful and compassionate than ever. I knew that everyone in the hospital had been through some challenging hardships, that it wasn't unique to her or the two of us, but no one had done it with half as much grace and empathy as she had. Never had she let the word harden or ruin the incredibly kind woman that she was. That was something that couldn't be said for anyone else that I knew. The way that she amazed me continued on a daily basis.

Very gently, as to not alarm her or wake her up, I reached out for her. At first, I placed my hand on her hip, feeling the warmth of the revealed skin. Then very gently, I brought my fingers to the pink skin of her scar. It felt like any scar would – a little tougher, yet more tender at the same time. I dragged the pads of my fingertips against the length of it gently, taking a deep breath.

"I love you," I murmured gently. She didn't have to hear it know, or at least, not right now. I'd told her time and time again. I wanted her to know. I needed her to know. Saying it over and over again would never be enough.

The redhead laying beside me stirred for a moment and I stilled, not wanting to wake her up. She rolled over and switched sides so that she was facing away for me.

Taking advantage of the new position, I shifted myself so that her back was pressed up against my front, finding comfort in her soft curves. She's still a little thicker than usual from giving birth only a few weeks ago, but I like the extra weight on her. She's a little curvier, a little plumper in the rear, and just as beautiful as always.

Something indistinguishable is muttered and keeps me from closing my eyes completely, eyebrows raising to see if she was about to wake up.

"You're home," April finally muttered, clearer than before.

"Yeah," I answered softly, pressing a kiss against the shell of her ear, and then another one of her shoulder. "Sorry, I didn't want to wake you up. Harriet's sleeping like a little angel." I commented.

"Because she is one," she hummed out, snuggling back against me.

"Reminds me a lot of someone else I know." I sighed out before breathing in her smell, happy to have her snuggled against me like this. I miss sex a little bit – but I wasn't going to push her until she was ready for everything.

I brushed my nose against the back of her neck softly, listening to the content noise that she made. "I love you," I added quietly, running my hand along her side for a moment before setting it gently in front of her stomach again, not wanting to draw too much attention to the motion. I used to do it all the time when she was pregnant. But now she didn't seem to enjoy that particular contact nearly as much. She's insecure about it and I want to help her with that, even if I'm not sure the best way to go about it.

"I love you too," she whispered back quietly.

"You're incredible," I murmured, letting my eyes fall shut. It would have been nice to stay up and talk to her after a long day, sure, but the exhaustion was wearing at the both of us.

"Are you trying to push my shirt up? You want me naked?" She muttered, pushing my hand away gently as she shifted and pulled her shirt back down to cover her upper half completely. "Taking advantage of me while I sleep..." her words trailed off with the light-hearted accusation.

I barely chuckled. "No, you just squirm so much when you sleep you may as well strip."

"You know I don't like that scar," she muttered.

"It's not ugly," I reminded her. "It's beautiful. It shows how much you've been through. Just think, whenever you go to one of those mommy and me classes and some fluffy, organic mom talks about the miracle of childbirth and how she did a natural birth, you can one-up her and say that you did an all natural c-section. See her try and top that." My words are gentle, trying to ease the edge of the conversation and not wanting to get into it too deep when we're both this tired. But I don't want her to think for a moment that I think any less of her appearance because of the scar.

They did earn a small chuckle out of April, fortunately. "I prefer to ignore the type," she sighed out quietly, squirming back against me once more. "I rather just stay home with you instead of going out. Going out is too much work."

"Mm," I hummed in agreement. "You're not wrong about that. Harriet hates the car seat we got."

"Maybe we should get a different one," she suggested sleepily. "One she might like better."

"April Kepner, suggesting something less than frugal? Who are you and what have you done with my wife?" I teased her, unable to resist the easy opportunity and placing another kiss just behind her earlobe.

"Shhh," she resisted. "I'm tired. Don't be mean."

"I'm not being mean," I chuckled. "Go to sleep, baby. We can talk in the morning."


End file.
